


Bumming Around

by UnfinishedProject



Series: Party Dolls & Wine [1]
Category: The Cannonball Run
Genre: Age Difference, Breaking the Fourth Wall, Cowgirl Position, Drinking, F/M, Hook-Up, Improper Use of a Rosary, Karaoke, Kinda Songfic, Missionary Position, Multiple Orgasms, Oral Sex, POV Third Person Limited, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Priest Kink, Reckless Driving, Smut, Some Humor, Some Plot, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-07
Updated: 2020-04-07
Packaged: 2021-03-02 05:01:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23529568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UnfinishedProject/pseuds/UnfinishedProject
Summary: All Cannonballers have arrived to LA, kicking back with a huge party after days on the road. Maybe she just had too much wine, maybe it's just the disco ball shining like that — or it is, in fact, love. But whatever those feelings are, it leads down a slippery slope; or a cross country race, rather.The Cannonball Run now with 100% more Dean Martin songs.
Relationships: Jamie Blake/Reader
Series: Party Dolls & Wine [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1693255
Comments: 5
Kudos: 2





	1. That's Amore

She's been sitting across the bar from the two priests, eyeing them for a while. It was clear they weren't real ones — what kind of catholic priests drove around in a Ferrari? Or wore blings like Shorty. Definitely Cannonballers like the majority of people around the bar; it's been after all the sponsoring hotel and finish line. A bunch of cocky racers; though she couldn't deny the one with the rosary was making things to her — or maybe that was just the second Slow Screw she's been sipping on. 

Those brown eyes came to rest on her a few times during the night but they remained on their respective sides of the bar. She sought his gaze again as someone, after one too many drinks, fired up the karaoke machine — quite a novelty. The audience, whether they wanted or not, was presented with a godawful rendition of _Stayin' Alive_ and she couldn't decide to laugh or cry at how the song was butchered. At least she was aware of her limits, of not being a Cher or Diana Ross herself, especially not after a few glasses of booze — yet the tipsiness of those very same drinks made her want to try her hand at it. 

It took more than half the song, somewhere around the second _'music loud and women warm'_ , to catch his gaze. It was followed by smiles, and wild gestures and pointing from him; at her, himself and the stage in the corner — and she caught herself too late, enthusiastically nodding her head to the offer. She downed the rest of her cocktail, hoping for a boost from the liquid bravery — or to black out and never ever remember this night. 

They met up by the stage as the song dwindled down, shaking hands and exchanging first names. The previous performer, she should've thought it would be none other than Victor, came down amongst jeers more than cheers and she hesitated for a moment — letting Jamie to select a song for them. Maybe it was a mistake, seeing how she grew up on her father's vinyls of country music and her mother's love for musicals from the fifties and sixties. Her eyes flitted to the screen when he was done tweaking the settings — assessing with a relieved sigh that his choice was _That's Amore_. She was familiar with the entirety of Martin's discography thanks to her mother — and even though that still didn't make her a stellar singer, she was not as nervous now. 

_**When the moon hits your eye like a big pizza pie**_  
_**That's amore**_  


She almost forgot about singing her own line — man, could he sing! The though crossed her mind that maybe just the machine broke and it was in fact an original recording she heard — the theory definitely busted when her lines weren't overpowered by the masculine voice she expected. She wasn't as close to the original Jamie was, pretty obvious from the single fact already that her natural voice was higher pitched. 

_**Hearts will play tippy-tippy-tay, tippy-tippy-tay**_  
_**Like a gay tarantella**_

If it wasn't enough that he had voice to make it as a professional singer if racing ever became boring or out of fashion, he added a series of complex footwork at those parts — and subsequent lines of the same rhythm. Meanwhile the best she could do was a shimmy of her hips. They turned to face each other for the second verse, both of them confident in their knowledge of the lyrics. There was a smile on his lips as they sang and her already rosy cheeks darkened a shade or two. 

_**When you walk in a dream but you know you're not dreaming signore**_  
_**Scusami, but you see, back in old Napoli**_  
_**That's amore**_

Her initiative of purposefully singing for him and offering a hand was beyond her usual boldness — but she couldn't deny enjoying herself. A giggle slipped from her lips when Jamie twirled her around, pulling her close for a beat or two. The audience ceased to exist soon after they began and now the song seemed to be even more strangely appropriate — hearts racing and feeling like she could dance all night. 

_**Hearts will play tippy-tippy-tay, tippy-tippy-tay**_  
_**Like a gay tarantella**_  
_**Lucky fella**_

There were probably some amongst the patrons and racers who shared Dean's sentiment — she could spot at least two others who hit on her already. And if the night went on according to her hopes, he was just about to get even luckier. The last lines were more crooned to her, twirled into his hold again, than sang for the audience — hinting at exactly the type of activities she had in mind. There's been a round of applause as they gave space to the next person — though she attributed most of their success to him. 

"So, Father," she almost purred the words, "how about being my Daddy for tonight?" The euphoria of the duet and her latest Slow Screw hasn't washed off of her yet and the words slipped from her before she could stop them. A terrified little squeak followed her question and her eyes suddenly found the floor more than fascinating. The hand around her stiffened before a warm, deep chuckle filled her ears. 

"How about we drop that, our clothes and just see where it leads?" She shuddered, his breath tickling her ear — that plan sounded simple and good enough. Turning into his side, she planted a hand against his chest; sealing the deal with a small kiss. It was only but a taste of what would follow for the both of them.


	2. Lay Some Happiness On Me

Their lips didn't stay apart for long, seeking each other even before the elevator doors could close. Her arms wrapped around his neck, fingers tangling into the curly hair at his nape. She sighed into the kiss, eyes closing as his hands took to exploring her body, pinning her against the walls. Catching a glimpse of herself in the mirror when leaving, she was sure her appearance would be even more dishevelled by the time she left. 

His room wasn't far from the elevator and thankfully he wasn't sharing it with Shorty — that could've turned things awkward quite quick. It seemed her place tonight would be pinned between him and whatever flat surface — the door this time — though she didn't have much complaints. A hand cradled her cheek, keeping the kisses going amongst gasps and sighs — his other caressing her exposed thigh and slipping up under her shorts. The tingles of her tipsiness were replaced by tingles of anticipation and bliss — if she weren't held tightly in his arms, she would be sliding down against the door, melting at the sensations. 

His kisses were soft and somehow persistent, his tongue working past her lips and drawing a soft moan from her. She let her eyes close, completely surrendering herself to him — the warm palm that moved to fondle her ass and the kisses that quite literally took her breath away. It was embarrassing how easily she turned into a panting mess, prompting his lips to move against her jawline and neck — intense kisses changed to feathery ones and soft nibbles. 

"There was something about dropping clothes?" She's been halfway done with undoing buttons on his shirt when the question rolled off her tongue, half-lidded eyes staring up lazily at those browns she could drown in. There was a smirk playing on her lips, body arched away from the door and pressing her tits against his now bare chest. Her own tshirt was thin enough that he could feel out her body with it still on, nipples poking against the fabric — she wasn't a firm believer of bras. "Or you want me to start with a _prayer_ down on my knees first?" 

Her hand dropped below his belt, dragging along the semi-hard shape of his cock — growing into a firm bulge under her palm. She knew Jamie said to drop that kind of talk — _or maybe that was just about the Daddy part?_ — but she couldn't help herself, it was just too good a chance to pass it up. She's been playing coy now, fluttering her lashes but it was hard to look innocent when her lips kept curling into a smirk. There was one of his own as he leaned in for a kiss — a thumb brushing across her wet lips. 

"Let's leave those lips to make more sinful sounds." Unwitting, a moan slipped from her just as he finished the sentence — it would've been hard not to with the way his hips ground into hers. She was turned on, this priest act doing for her more than she expected. It was all fake and somewhere in the back of her mind, under all those layers of lust and desire, she was aware of that — but there's been something to it that made everything all the more scandalous. If her father saw her, he'd have a heart attack — not only did she hook up with someone easily twice her age but one of those _'damn racers'_ as he used to put it; the fake premises of identity and blasphemy was the cherry on top. 

"You only _preach_ or you lead by example?" The kisses were nice but that wasn't why she was here. Her hands planted against his chest pushed him away, backing him against the bed — clothes shimmied off and strewn around marking their path. She used a hand to press his lips back to hers again and again and again, her other exploring his body more. It rested against his chest, thumb brushing across the suntanned skin, warm and smooth against her palm, as she was lowered onto the mattress. The rosary that's been tucked into his breast pocket was soon wrapped around her wrists, binding them together that it was easy to pin them above her hands. She let out a little whine, wriggling under his body and rubbing against him any way possible — though she wasn't minding it as much as it seemed. 

"Hold onto that for me, will ya?" There's been something mischievous to his voice as his lips worked against her jawline; hanging slack with a moan, pulled from her by unoccupied fingers brushing along her body. That softness — or slowness — was gone when his teeth grazed her throat and slid lower along her body. His touches and the nibbling, sucking kisses told her of urgency — the heat pooling in her abdomen telling her about the same. 

She whimpered as his lips travelled her skin, making her the object of his worship — and she'd say it felt heavenly. She could've removed the bonds easily and it felt quite unfair that she couldn't touch — but her impatience would ruin what he was building up. Her breath stuttered on inhale, tits pressing more into the fondling palms with the arch of her back; his wet lips moving back and forth between her nipples. Eventually, her eyes fluttered closed, unable to bear the heat of his gaze — the smug smile just adding to her frustration. 

It's been quite different from what she expected from a Cannonballer; something quick and rough — though maybe not everything had to be fast-paced to be enjoyable or appreciated by them. She could probably count on one hand the occasions she felt so spoilt. His lips and hands covered every bit of her body as Jamie slowly made his way down, finally below her hips. She was getting twitchy now, so close and dripping some of her slick. The warm breath fluttering against her skin taunted her — even more so with her more exposed, catching onto new trends and aesthetic choices quickly. His name left her lips as a broken moan, hips jerking upwards as he stroked between her folds, parting her for his kisses and licks. Though it felt more like he was lapping up every drop of her slick, tongue pressed flat against her skin as it wiggled up and down. She's been making more noise now and if there wasn't an oldtime song drifting from a nearby room, most of the floor could've heard her. 

_**No more loneliness to me**_  
_**Lay some happiness on me**_  
  
_**Cover me up and I'll squeeze tighter**_  
_**Honey let's kiss me do**_  


God, she shouldn't have opened her eyes. She bit her lip at the sight, aching to sink her fingers into those curly locks — remaining as she was; the tight coil ready to snap with pleasure, slick trickling down her skin. Their eyes met for a brief second, that wink pushing her along the last stretch to her peak. There was a question, about what she hardly had the consciousness to care, the deep voice vibrating against her core as she quivered in his hold. 

It was a sharp and intense high but short and she was coming down from it with heavy pants of his name and various expletives. She needed a bit to catch her breath before she was able to give back — wrestling Jamie onto his back the moment her hands were disentangled from the rosary. It caught him off guard and she was rewarded with a surprised huff — maybe somewhat even indignant. She leant down with a kiss, her messy hair loosened from the ponytail now falling around their faces. 

She ground down on his hips while blindly searching the drawer for the hotel provided condoms. Sitting back against his thighs, she gave a few strokes to his cock before rolling the latex along his length — his skin glistening with the slick she just coated him with. There was a few grunts in response to her palming, her name snuck between the sounds. She leaned down with more kisses, his fingers curling into her hair, slickening him up again — his lips swallowing up her whiny moans. 

"Holy hell!" She's only worked the head in but she could already see that such blasphemous phrases would roll off her tongue by the dozen before the night was through. A hand grabbed her hips, keeping her steady as she braced against the headboard — sinking against his hips with a single motion that had her moan his name. Her eyes closed, head tilted back as she took to the feeling of fullness; his cock just the right size that it only came with burning pleasure. "Jamie!" 

He didn't exactly wait for her to adjust before he thrust up into her and she toppled forward — though it wasn't all that bad once she steadied herself. His pace was slow, with deep thrusts; leaving her gasping and lightly scratching at his chest. She was keeping rhythm with him, ass pressing against his thighs each time she sat back against him. More or less straightened up, she wrapped an arm around her chest, holding her tits that bounced as his thrusts rocked her body — promptly dropping them at his request. His hold slipped from her hips and she could take over the pace, hands fondling her tits. It usually didn't do much for her — maybe because previous partners were overly rough — but the roll of her nipples made her clench around him in anticipation. 

"Keep that up, honey." His voice was more of a growl or a low whisper — and damn if that wasn't the sexiest voice she ever heard. She suck in her lower lip, doubling down on the speed and trying to replicate what had him grunt in pleasure. The nervous energy of another climax was gathering in her abdomen, surging through her body with each stroke of her insides — with each thrust that had him tease her sweet spot. She was a mess of moans, slipping off rhythm every now and then with a quiver of her thighs — Jamie not much more dignified in his own sounds. 

"Please, Jamie! More!" It's been growing difficult to keep a constant pace and even though he met the snap of her hips with his own thrusts each time, it wasn't enough. The room twisted around her, back not even hitting the mattress as it arched — neck exposed for further kisses and hickeys. A hand held her hips, moans spilling from her lips unrestrained. She clawed at his back — nails short, not leaving real scratches. Another hand tugged on his hair, begging his lips back to her own. His thrusts were hurried and rough now, fingers rolling the bundle of nerves to make her come. 

If she wasn't hot, sweaty and panting, she'd think the images conjured up in her mind were a replay of a Fourth of July, millions of colors bursting behind her closed eyelids. It faded and the bliss diluted with a sense of exhaustion, riding out her high as Jamie chased his own release — her hips coaxing him closer with each lazy roll. She pressed soft, open-mouthed kisses along his jawline and down his neck, brushing fingers against his chest and hips. It didn't take much longer than for her to reach the breaking point, sinking into her with a last, deep thrust. 

"Hey, honey." His voice was soft, a little raspy from the grunts and moans perhaps. The back of his fingers danced along her jawline, tilting her head to meet his lips in a passionate but unhurried kiss — just the thing her blissful, little mind craved. She threaded finger through his hair, losing some of its fluffiness from the sweat that covered both of their bodies now. She purred as fingers kept caressing her body and she felt like falling asleep in that moment. 

"Hey, Jamie." There was something soft in his eyes as she whispered back, unsure what to make of it — they barely met a few hours ago. Her arms wrapped around his shoulders let go of him, getting out of bed to clean up with one of the hotel's towels. She threw another at him with a giggle when he grumbled about getting up and doing the same — it's been stupidly sweet. Her eyes wandered to her clothes and the door, holding the towel against her front — her exhaustion wasn't the main reason why she didn't want to go back to her room. "Do you want me to stay the night?"


	3. King of the Road

_Sunlight was seeping in through the windows, painting the room with a golden glow. She's been cuddled up to Jamie, head resting against his shoulder with fingers drawing shapeless lines on his chest — it was as close to a perfect morning it could get. Their lips met in a lazy kiss, his fingers tucking a strand of hair behind her ear._

It was about an hour ago now and she's been walking over to the Ferrari in the parking lot. They had breakfast together and then she took him up on the offer of taking the car for a spin — rather he takes it for a spin and she tags along in lack of a license. Having a father obsessed with safety meant no driving while she lived under the same roof. 

"Hey, Jamie." She glanced back at the hotel before pressing a small kiss to his lips, afraid her father would catch them. Stepping back with a smile, she was about to go around to the passenger seat when his fingers curled around her wrist — stopping her before she could walk away. She raised an eyebrow at him behind her shades — she told him already about not driving. 

"Hop in with me here." At first she only though he wanted her to crawl across his lap for a couple of stray touches — but now she's been sitting in his lap, squished between the wheel and his chest. _Thank God the lot was almost empty_ — the thought crossed her mind quite a few times, struggling to even drive a couple yards straight. She wasn't sure it was the panic of being a first time driver or Jamie's closeness that made it difficult to concentrate on the road. 

"Is there a second gearshift or are you just enjoying this?" Her eyes caught his in the rearview mirror, grinding her ass back against his hips. Over the past hour, she's got decent at the very basics and now she could go around the central pavement strip without worries — until now when the defined hardness started to become more than an ignorable tease. 

"Well, honey, we could go for some _private lessons._ " His lips brushed against her ear, leaving a trail of kisses down her neck as hands moved to squeeze her exposed thighs. She purred and was about to accept the offer when someone called her name — quite angry by the sounds of it. Her eyes widened and knuckles whitened as her hands gripped the steering wheel — her father's form approaching them from the hotel. 

"Shit. Dad's coming. I need to get away." 

"No time. Hit it!" His arms wrapping around her waist kept her from scrambling to the passenger seat, forcing her to keep the car on the road as it shot out from the lot. She wasn't proud of it but the scream forced its way past her lips as they sped down the service road along the pier. Her father did take safety to unreasonable measures but even she had to admit this was the top of reckless driving. 

She was shaking from head to toe as the car came to a screeching halt before merging with traffic and she could let out the breath she was holding — painfully aware in the entirety of the long minute that she needed oxygen. If it were easy to turn around, she would've slapped him for the preposterous idea — but as it was, she was happy to be in one piece, leaning back against his chest. 

"Don't do that again!" 

"Don't do what?" He had a smirk when she glanced at the mirror, and she couldn't help the giggle that spilled from her lips — it was quite a surreal moment. Her anger and panic further dissipated as Jamie pressed a kiss to the corner of her jaws, hands rubbing her thighs in an attempt to stop their quivering. 

"Fine. I give up." It's not like there was anything to be won. She slipped from his lap after a final kiss against her neck, evoking a different kind of nervousness despite the circumstances. Leaning over the middle console, her fingers grazed against his scalp as she pulled him in for a kiss — sweet and slow, like something out of a cliche movie. "I still think we should get out of here." 

They were driving down a coastal highway leading out of LA, the radio humming some songs from times past. She's been splayed out in the seat as much it was possible, enjoying the warmth of the sunlight and the refreshing breeze with the roof down. She was tempted to join the radio, her fingers already drumming out the beats against his thigh. 

_**I smoke old stogies I have found, short, but not too big around**_ **  
_**I'm a man of means by no means, king of the road**_**

********

********

__"You never said you were Foyt's kid." She glanced over at him at the observation, thoughts of singing taking a backseat. To be fair, she never thought it was something relevant — she was anything but a stickler for rules. She didn't like being associated by her father, losing many friends to his obsession of enforcing the safety rules — and many others assumed she was stuck-up like him when introducing herself. So when she could, she kept it hidden — even more prevalent among the Cannonballers._ _

__"You never asked." They didn't really asked many questions anyway. She leaned over, pressing a kiss to his cheeks instead of further explanations — she just wanted to enjoy the thrill of the ride before needing to deal with the inevitable consequences._ _


End file.
